Western Widows

I shook my head at my friend and looked at him incredulously. "That slip of a woman? She's keeping you from what you want? I've seen you decimate a room full of men in a saloon brawl and one woman halts you in your tracks?"

The other man clenched his jaw, angry at my words, but his cheeks heated. Perhaps a little harsh words would prod him into action.

"Rachel Moore? The other woman whose husband was killed?"

"Yes," both Seth and I said at the same time.

"Did you make a pact with her husband as well?"

I placed my hand on top of hers. "We were all friends, love. One night, over a year ago, a mudslide wiped out the south end of town."

"I heard about it, but I wasn't here at the time, so only in passing," Charlotte said.

I nodded. "Several people were killed. While thankfully that was only a small number, it could have been worse. We, Seth, Richard, Aaron and I, were in the saloon that night."

"We worked through that bottle of whiskey," Seth added. "In our morose state, we pondered our own mortality and agreed we'd protect our families."

"We had none, which made our conversation even a bit more ridiculous. Halfway through the bottle we vowed that whenever we married, our wives would be the ones protected. So Aaron and I agreed and Liam and Richard agreed. If one of us died, the other would step in."

Charlotte turned to look at me. "Remember, love, we didn't say we would marry, only t

hat we would protect. I ran my knuckles down her cheek. "I chose to marry you because I wanted...want...you."

Her eyes widened and she pushed her chair back, stood and ran from the room. In her haste, Seth and I barely made it out of our chairs. I glanced at my friend who tilted his chin in the direction she fled. Seth's house was bigger than any bachelor should have, especially in such a town the size of Collins, but I was thankful then to find Charlotte on the other side of the house, far enough away from the kitchen to offer us privacy.

"Charlotte, love, are you well?" I asked, breathing hard.

She faced away from me, looking out the window and onto the rolling hillside and the mountains in the distance. Turning, she looked at me, her eyes dry. She, too, was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed.

"No," she replied.

I closed the distance between us, worry hastening my steps. I took hold of her upper arms, raked my gaze over her. "What—"

"Now, please," she breathed.

I frowned. "Now?"

"Pull the ribbons."

Worry evaporated like morning dew in the sunshine. "You want to come, love?"

She nodded, licked her lips in anticipation.

"All right. You're not mad?"

"Mad?" she repeated. "No. I realized the depth of your want for me. I love that you have me aching for you because...because you're aching for me, too."

I let out a breath I hadn't known I held. The months of questioning whether Charlotte would accept my proposal, would understand the true reason for wanting to wed her had me wound tighter than a clock. I hadn't known if she'd think, somewhere deep down inside no matter how many times I told her or showed her, that I married her to save her. Like Richard had. I hadn't married her to save her, I'd married her to save me. I hadn't known what I'd been missing in my life until that day Richard introduced us. Until I saw the way they were in their marriage and had that first kernel of hope that someday she could be mine. Then a sad turn of events set her free, free for me to claim. Even then, I had to wait, had to ensure her heart was as free as she was.

Even after our night together and the different ways I'd shown her how much I wanted her, I still wondered. But with just a few words, she'd released that burden I'd carried. I ached for her, too.

My smile, at first, was unsteady, but then spread wide and sure. "Do you know how hard I am for you? I've most likely disgraced myself in front of Seth."

Charlotte looked down my body. "I'm the one who hasn't come," she countered, pouting.

I raised my eyebrow and gazed into her pale eyes. "Are you wet for me?"

This time I asked, she knew the meaning of my words.